:: chapter six ::
It looks like a person.
Meredith had to read those words more than a few times before they managed to sink in. “Are you absolutely certain?” she asked.
I honestly don’t know. It’s all shadows. Plus it’s damn near impossible to make ANYTHING out on this monitor screen at this distance. Besides which, the human mind has a tendency to spot human-like shapes in random things. It’s called pareidolia.
“I’ve heard of that. It’s what happens when people think they see the Virgin Mary in water stains or things like that, right?”
Right! Or even smiley faces in car grilles and headlights. I’m probably more prone to it than anyone else right now, seeing as there’s no other living, conscious being out here. I’m desperately seeking the familiar, so of course I’m going to see shit like that. So even though what I’m seeing looks like a person EVERY SINGLE TIME that I rewind it, I know that realistically, it ISN’T a person. It can’t be. But it looks so much like it is.
Somewhat to Meredith’s surprise, Taylor’s next words seemed hesitant. You believe me, right?
“Hey, if you say you saw something, then you saw something. You gonna keep looking at the footage?”
I could. I know myself better than I know anyone else, and I know that I could keep doing this all day long. But it doesn’t matter how many times I watch it, I see that shape every single time. And every single time I have to remind myself that I’m not really seeing it. Meredith swore she could hear him let out a sigh. This is giving me a headache. I’m gonna get myself some breakfast and stop worrying about whatever it is I’m seeing. That’s what normal people do in the morning, right?
“I wouldn’t say I’m normal, per se, but I’m having my breakfast right now so yeah, I’d say so.”
Oh good. Despite the fact that I’ve been stranded in deep space for the last, what, three days now, I want to do as many normal things as possible. So, just like a normal person, I’m going to chow down on an MRE of, let’s see...oh lovely. Lemon pepper tuna. The breakfast of champions.
Meredith hid a smile. Even without hearing him speak, the sarcasm in Taylor’s words was crystal clear. “Sounds delicious.”
Sarcasm doesn’t always come across in print, but I’m gonna go ahead and assume you were being sarcastic. Purely because I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to discuss the topic of ‘fish for breakfast’ without a heavy dose of it.
“That was most definitely sarcasm.”
They were both quiet for a few minutes while they each ate. Meredith had just finished chasing the last few cornflakes around her bowl when Taylor’s next message landed on her phone. Okay then. Finished with breakfast, which is honestly the most charitable way I can think of to describe it. Beggars can’t be choosers and all that. The way I see it, today is all about reaching that peak. I’m hoping like hell that my inability to get there yesterday was just a combination of exhaustion and optical illusion. I’ve got a full day ahead of me this time, so I’m liking my odds a whole lot better today. I also like knowing that this caravel, nightmarish as it is, and the generator I found yesterday are waiting for me on my way back to the Varia later on. I’ll be able to fire up the distress beacon so I can hopefully get out of here, or else the gun turret on the off chance that there really IS something else out here besides me. So what do you think? Figure I can make it to the peak today?
“Oh hell yes,” Meredith said. “I completely agree with you. You’d be mad not to give it a go. You’ve come too far now not to.”
Exactly what I was thinking. Give me a few minutes to pack some munchies for the hike and stow the generator somewhere safe, and then I’ll be on my way. I’ll let you know when I’m headed out.
While Taylor was busying himself with getting ready to head out to the peak, Meredith glanced around the dining hall. It was a Saturday, so it seemed to her as if the other students who called her residence hall home were taking advantage of the weekend by either sleeping in or having a long, leisurely breakfast. She was sorely tempted to join the latter group, but thought better of it. Instead, she picked up her breakfast bowl and headed into the kitchen to drop it off in the dishwasher. She had plans for her Saturday that didn’t involve being cooped up inside staring at the screen of her laptop or her tablet.
Her wanderings that morning led her across campus to the botanical gardens that lay on the university’s south-eastern border. Just as she stepped into the gardens’ outdoor amphitheatre her phone vibrated and chimed in her pocket, but she chose to leave checking it until she was settled on one of the benches in the amphitheatre’s back row, leaning against the trunk of a spreading gingko tree.
Just stuck my head out of the caravel and caught what was, honestly, one of the most impressive sunrises I’ve ever seen. It’s stunning. Even if it is Tau Ceti and not Sol, but you know what? I’m gonna go ahead and count it.
“You definitely should,” Meredith replied. Down at the front of the amphitheatre she could see a knot of Girl Scouts crowded around their troop leader, with a trio of teenage boys bent over a tablet on a bench in the middle row. “What does it look like?”
Lots of pink, orange, yellow and purple. I wish my helmet’s camera was working so I could take a photo of it. Meredith smiled at this. So first of all, let’s just be impressed that I was up and at ‘em before first light. That hasn’t happened in...well, ever. If my mother ever finds out she’ll faint.
“Not a morning person?”
Fuck no. I hate early mornings with a passion. My weirdo brothers are the ones who like getting up at the crack of dawn.
She laughed softly. “I think I have to agree with you. Early mornings are horrible.”
Nice to see that SOMEONE does. Second of all, I think I should mention that while I had my head outside the caravel, I could see a weird green corona around the peak. It was just a few degrees away from natural-looking, and to be totally honest with you it weirded me right out.
“Did it look anything like the green lights that woke you up last night?”
Yeah, it did actually.
Meredith shivered a little. “That can’t be good.”
Yeah, no kidding. Oh, and third of all, my IEVA suit’s compass is still acting all screwy. I guess I don’t REALLY need it for hiking to the peak – so long as I have line of sight, it shouldn’t be a problem to get there.
“It can’t hurt to have one handy, though.”
True. And I bet I could cobble one together out of spare parts before I head off. It’d literally take me a few minutes. Think I should?
“Yeah, do it.”
She was pretty sure that if she could have seen Taylor right then, he would have given her the biggest smile imaginable – one that she was positive could have lit up an entire room. Oh, this is going to be fun.
Meredith had to read those words more than a few times before they managed to sink in. “Are you absolutely certain?” she asked.
I honestly don’t know. It’s all shadows. Plus it’s damn near impossible to make ANYTHING out on this monitor screen at this distance. Besides which, the human mind has a tendency to spot human-like shapes in random things. It’s called pareidolia.
“I’ve heard of that. It’s what happens when people think they see the Virgin Mary in water stains or things like that, right?”
Right! Or even smiley faces in car grilles and headlights. I’m probably more prone to it than anyone else right now, seeing as there’s no other living, conscious being out here. I’m desperately seeking the familiar, so of course I’m going to see shit like that. So even though what I’m seeing looks like a person EVERY SINGLE TIME that I rewind it, I know that realistically, it ISN’T a person. It can’t be. But it looks so much like it is.
Somewhat to Meredith’s surprise, Taylor’s next words seemed hesitant. You believe me, right?
“Hey, if you say you saw something, then you saw something. You gonna keep looking at the footage?”
I could. I know myself better than I know anyone else, and I know that I could keep doing this all day long. But it doesn’t matter how many times I watch it, I see that shape every single time. And every single time I have to remind myself that I’m not really seeing it. Meredith swore she could hear him let out a sigh. This is giving me a headache. I’m gonna get myself some breakfast and stop worrying about whatever it is I’m seeing. That’s what normal people do in the morning, right?
“I wouldn’t say I’m normal, per se, but I’m having my breakfast right now so yeah, I’d say so.”
Oh good. Despite the fact that I’ve been stranded in deep space for the last, what, three days now, I want to do as many normal things as possible. So, just like a normal person, I’m going to chow down on an MRE of, let’s see...oh lovely. Lemon pepper tuna. The breakfast of champions.
Meredith hid a smile. Even without hearing him speak, the sarcasm in Taylor’s words was crystal clear. “Sounds delicious.”
Sarcasm doesn’t always come across in print, but I’m gonna go ahead and assume you were being sarcastic. Purely because I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to discuss the topic of ‘fish for breakfast’ without a heavy dose of it.
“That was most definitely sarcasm.”
They were both quiet for a few minutes while they each ate. Meredith had just finished chasing the last few cornflakes around her bowl when Taylor’s next message landed on her phone. Okay then. Finished with breakfast, which is honestly the most charitable way I can think of to describe it. Beggars can’t be choosers and all that. The way I see it, today is all about reaching that peak. I’m hoping like hell that my inability to get there yesterday was just a combination of exhaustion and optical illusion. I’ve got a full day ahead of me this time, so I’m liking my odds a whole lot better today. I also like knowing that this caravel, nightmarish as it is, and the generator I found yesterday are waiting for me on my way back to the Varia later on. I’ll be able to fire up the distress beacon so I can hopefully get out of here, or else the gun turret on the off chance that there really IS something else out here besides me. So what do you think? Figure I can make it to the peak today?
“Oh hell yes,” Meredith said. “I completely agree with you. You’d be mad not to give it a go. You’ve come too far now not to.”
Exactly what I was thinking. Give me a few minutes to pack some munchies for the hike and stow the generator somewhere safe, and then I’ll be on my way. I’ll let you know when I’m headed out.
While Taylor was busying himself with getting ready to head out to the peak, Meredith glanced around the dining hall. It was a Saturday, so it seemed to her as if the other students who called her residence hall home were taking advantage of the weekend by either sleeping in or having a long, leisurely breakfast. She was sorely tempted to join the latter group, but thought better of it. Instead, she picked up her breakfast bowl and headed into the kitchen to drop it off in the dishwasher. She had plans for her Saturday that didn’t involve being cooped up inside staring at the screen of her laptop or her tablet.
Her wanderings that morning led her across campus to the botanical gardens that lay on the university’s south-eastern border. Just as she stepped into the gardens’ outdoor amphitheatre her phone vibrated and chimed in her pocket, but she chose to leave checking it until she was settled on one of the benches in the amphitheatre’s back row, leaning against the trunk of a spreading gingko tree.
Just stuck my head out of the caravel and caught what was, honestly, one of the most impressive sunrises I’ve ever seen. It’s stunning. Even if it is Tau Ceti and not Sol, but you know what? I’m gonna go ahead and count it.
“You definitely should,” Meredith replied. Down at the front of the amphitheatre she could see a knot of Girl Scouts crowded around their troop leader, with a trio of teenage boys bent over a tablet on a bench in the middle row. “What does it look like?”
Lots of pink, orange, yellow and purple. I wish my helmet’s camera was working so I could take a photo of it. Meredith smiled at this. So first of all, let’s just be impressed that I was up and at ‘em before first light. That hasn’t happened in...well, ever. If my mother ever finds out she’ll faint.
“Not a morning person?”
Fuck no. I hate early mornings with a passion. My weirdo brothers are the ones who like getting up at the crack of dawn.
She laughed softly. “I think I have to agree with you. Early mornings are horrible.”
Nice to see that SOMEONE does. Second of all, I think I should mention that while I had my head outside the caravel, I could see a weird green corona around the peak. It was just a few degrees away from natural-looking, and to be totally honest with you it weirded me right out.
“Did it look anything like the green lights that woke you up last night?”
Yeah, it did actually.
Meredith shivered a little. “That can’t be good.”
Yeah, no kidding. Oh, and third of all, my IEVA suit’s compass is still acting all screwy. I guess I don’t REALLY need it for hiking to the peak – so long as I have line of sight, it shouldn’t be a problem to get there.
“It can’t hurt to have one handy, though.”
True. And I bet I could cobble one together out of spare parts before I head off. It’d literally take me a few minutes. Think I should?
“Yeah, do it.”
She was pretty sure that if she could have seen Taylor right then, he would have given her the biggest smile imaginable – one that she was positive could have lit up an entire room. Oh, this is going to be fun.
Meredith’s question popped up on his communicator just as he was poking through the caravel’s medkit for a couple of needles. He paused briefly to consider his answer, squinting a little as he thought it over.
“Basically, the most important thing is that the compass face is able to float frictionless while it spins,” he replied as he found the needles he needed. He carefully poked them through the fabric of his sleeping bag so that he didn’t lose them. “The last time I made a compass, I used a bowl of water. I’m not about to try balancing one of those while I’m hiking all day, though, I don’t have enough water to spare and I’d probably end up spilling it anyway. I’ll balance the face of the compass on a pushpin or something like that.”
He zipped the medkit closed again and rose up out of his crouch. “I found a couple of needles, so the next thing I need to do is magnetise them so that when I’ve got my compass put together, it points north. And for that I need a magnet, preferably a rare earth one. Fortunately for me, there’s a whole bank of computers here in the flight deck that aren’t using their hard drives right now.”
So you’re going to smash the shit out of them?
He grinned. “I am going to smash the absolute shit outta those computers. Gotta take all my frustration out on something, after all. I bet I could find a mallet around here somewhere.”
It didn’t take him long at all to disassemble the flight deck computers. While he hadn’t been able to find a mallet, the piece of scrap he’d used to try and get into the galley the day before was a decent substitute. From there it was just a simple matter of getting the magnet out of one of the hard drives and rubbing it on the needles he’d found to magnetise them and ensure that when his compass was complete, it pointed north.
“And we are done!” he said triumphantly as he finished his compass. “I magnetised the needles, stuck them on a bit of plastic MRE wrapper, mounted it all on a bent paperclip and couched the lot in a piece of PVC tubing. Time to go test it.” He picked up his backpack and helmet and headed for the airlock, setting them outside on the ground before climbing out. As soon as he was upright he held the compass up in the direction of the peak. To his relief, it seemed to be unaffected by the distortion that had rendered his original compass completely useless. “It’s not pretty, but it actually seems to work. And by that, I mean it points toward the peak and tells me that’s north.” He glared down at his suit’s compass. “Which is a hell of a lot more than my suit’s compass can do right now. Score one for the indoor kid!”
Are you headed off now?
“Yep. I’ll message you in a while.”
With those words he tied his helmet onto its spot on his backpack, giving the knot in the rope a few quick tugs to make sure it was secure, and slipped his arms through the pack’s straps. “Well, here we go,” he said to himself as he hoisted it onto his shoulders. “Weird-ass peak or bust.”
Even though he could no longer see his bootprints from the day before, he found himself retracing his steps to the little crater that lay due north of the caravel wreckage. “Okay, I reached this point yesterday,” he said as he reached its other side, having walked around its perimeter. “The crater where I realised that my suit’s compass was acting up, even though I was like five miles from the wreck.” He held his left wrist up at eye level, with his new compass alongside in his right hand. “And that’s still the case today. My suit compass is nuttier than two squirrels in a winter food hoarding competition.” He pulled a face at it and shifted his attention to his right hand. “My homemade compass, on the other hand, seems to be working perfectly – whatever distortion fucked up my original compass, it hasn’t had any effect on the new one. At least none that I can see, anyway.”
That has to be a relief.
“You have no idea. Like I said earlier, I don’t need it, but it does make sure I’m actually heading north. What with the whole ‘getting further away the closer I get’ thing.” A thought drifted into his head. “Maybe they should have got me to scratch-build the Varia, too. Might’ve stayed in one piece if I’d had a go at it.”
Good Lord, Taylor. That was fucking DARK.
He closed his eyes briefly and scrubbed a hand across them. “Yeah, it was a bit, wasn’t it? Sorry.”
Here he looked up at the peak and its poisonous green corona, the colour making him feel cold all over. It was almost as if its existence was taunting him. “Once again, I don’t feel like I’m any closer to the peak. And once again, I’m wondering whether I should even keep going.”
You’ve got this far. Might as well see what’s up.
“Yeah, okay. Plenty of daylight ahead of me, finite amount of moon. If I keep putting one foot in front of the other enough times, I’m bound to get somewhere.” Here he swallowed hard. “Or die trying.”
Please don’t die.
“I’ll do my best not to, Meredith. I can promise you that much.”
With those words he put his head down and continued his hike north, wishing that he didn’t feel so alone.
Meredith paused Netflix when her phone chimed and Taylor’s newest message popped up on its screen. She’d wandered back to her dorm room not long after he’d resumed his hike, picking up some snacks from the convenience store in the student rec centre on her way through campus, and was in the middle of bingeing Monty Python’s Flying Circus when the notification came through.
“I’m really glad to hear that, Tay,” she said. “I won’t lie, I’m relieved as hell that you haven’t.” She paused briefly. “You don’t mind me calling you that, do you?”
All my friends and family do, so yeah you can call me that.
“You can call me Mere, in that case.”
Mere it is. She was positive that she could see Taylor smiling at this. The bad news though? I honestly can’t tell whether or not I’ve gotten any closer. I swear that all of time and space and perspective have all taken a little vacation right in the vicinity of that weird as fuck peak. One second I’ll look up and I’ll be almost there, then I’ll blink and it looks like it’s ten fucking miles away again. It’s so frustrating.
“I bet,” she said sympathetically. “You’ve gotta be close, though. You’ve been hiking for how long now?”
Way too long at this point. Thinking of having a snack break before I get back to it.
“Yeah, go for it. I think you’ve earned it.”
Sweet! I’m gonna go with the first MRE I dig up. There was a bit of quiet while he – presumably, Meredith thought – rummaged around in his backpack. And the winner is…chili with beans. Hmm. I’ve heard people say that chili with beans isn’t proper chili at all. What do you think?
“No beans,” Meredith replied automatically. “Ever.”
Yeah, I’m gonna agree with you. I just tried this MRE and they really should have left them out. He seemed to consider this for a little while. Actually, they probably should have left the chili out entirely.
“Not great, I take it?”
It’s really not. Though it might be halfway tolerable if I had any way of heating it up. Still, I’m glad we solved that particular riddle. Promise me something, though?
“Yeah, sure.”
If I end up dying out here on this stupid moon, please make sure that there’s chili WITHOUT BEANS at my wake. Okay?
“You got it.”
Much appreciated. I’m going to finish eating, then it’s back to hiking. Check back in soon.
His away message flashed up almost as soon as he had finished speaking, and Meredith went back to her Monty Python marathon – or rather, she tried to. Almost as soon as she hit play again there was a frantic-sounding knock at her door, one that made her let out a frustrated sigh.
When she peered through the peephole and saw Quinn standing there, a stricken look on her face and clutching onto her tablet like it was a lifeline, every shred of frustration she was feeling evaporated immediately.
“Quinn?” she asked as soon as she got the door open. “Everything okay?”
“Did Taylor say how long it had been since he left Earth?” Quinn asked in lieu of a hello.
Meredith frowned a little as she thought back over the conversations she’d had with her astronaut friend, all of the messages the two of them had sent back and forth since Thursday, and tried to remember if there had been any mention of how long he’d been in space. “As far as I can remember, no,” she said at last. “All he’s ever said about it is that he was supposed to get to someplace called Tau Ceti VI in six days, and that was a couple of days ago.” She eyed Quinn. “I really don’t like the look on your face right now. Usually it means you’ve got bad news.”
“‘Bad news’ is one hell of an understatement, Meredith.”
The second that Meredith’s full first name left Quinn’s mouth, rather than her nickname, she immediately knew that her friend meant business. “I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve called me that,” she said, a cold knot of fear beginning to form somewhere in the region of her stomach.
Quinn put a hand on Meredith’s right shoulder. “Come on. I think you’d better sit down for this.”
The two of them were soon seated on Meredith’s bed – Meredith at its head, and Quinn in the middle. Quinn had put a pillow in Meredith’s lap before settling herself, with Meredith instinctively picking it up and hugging it. Whatever it was that Quinn had to say, she knew it couldn’t be good.
“I, uh…I found an article about that mission Taylor’s on,” Quinn started. She was still clutching the tablet tightly, her knuckles white. “It said that contact had been lost five weeks into the mission, with the presumed loss of all crew members.”
“But we know different,” Meredith said. “We know that Taylor and his captain survived the crash. And it’s, what, the start of December now – five weeks ago, that’s only the start of November. It hasn’t been that long since he left. And he’s going to get the distress beacon he found working once he gets done exploring this weird peak he saw the day of the crash.” She offered Quinn a smile that she hoped was reassuring. “They’ll find him, Quinn, and he’ll make it home. I know he will.”
When Quinn didn’t return her smile, she immediately knew something had gone very wrong.
“Meredith…” Quinn unlocked the tablet and held it out, its screen displaying a NASA press release. “Look at the date.”
As she took the tablet from Quinn and found the date that the article had been published, the knot of fear Meredith could feel deep inside became a tight fist around her heart. “Oh my God,” she whispered, horror-struck.
The date read December 8, 2202.
“He’s been missing for two years,” Quinn said quietly.
Meredith put the tablet down on the bed and dropped her head into her hands. “What are we going to do, Quinn? How am I going to tell him that everyone back here thinks he died two years ago?”
“I don’t know, Mere,” Quinn replied. “I honestly don’t know.”
“I’ve finally been able to make some real, noticeable progress,” he said once he was sitting on the edge of the crater, feet dangling down into it. “I’m at the edge of another crater – a fucking enormous one that’s going to take some serious rappelling into if I’m going to get to the bottom anytime soon.”
That deep, huh?
“Oh yeah. Wanna hear the best bit?”
Lay it on me.
“The base of the peak is right at the centre of the crater, at the absolute deepest point. So as long as I can keep an eye on it, that stupid peak isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Well, in theory, at least,” he amended. “Knowing my luck, I’ll blink and it’ll disappear on me again.”
I really hope you didn’t jinx yourself. That’s really good news, though.
“Yeah, I hope I didn’t jinx myself either.” He leaned forward over his knees a little and peered down into the crater. “It’s a hell of a long way down, though, and I don’t have any climbing equipment. Makes it sound pretty dangerous now that I think about it. I have no idea if I can even get down safely, or how I’d get back out again.”
He straightened back up again and stared at the peak. Now that he was the closest to it that he’d been since the crash, its presence was making him feel increasingly uneasy. If not for the fact that he was so determined to get to the bottom of how and why the Varia had crashed on this exact moon, he would have turned around and fled in the other direction.
“So what d’you say, Mere? Ready to find out what’s up with that peak?”
Oh hell yeah. You’ve come too far now NOT to find out.
“Exactly what I was thinking.” He got back to his feet and stepped back from the edge a little. “I’m gonna see if there’s anywhere I can climb down relatively safely. Gimme a few minutes.”
Soon enough, he had found a nearby section of the crater wall that looked relatively easy to climb down – ‘relatively easy’ being a relative term, of course. “There’s a part of the crater wall that’s got a decent amount of crags and footholds,” he said once he’d given the section he’d picked a once-over. “In the absence of ropes and carabiners, I guess that a few shallow divots in the rock is as good as it’s gonna get.”
At least you have a helmet.
“Yeah, good point. Though I’m not sure how much good it’ll do me if I fall off the wall halfway down. Not that something like that’s gonna happen,” he added hurriedly. “Other than that though, what’s the worst thing that could happen to me? I end up sawing off my own arm with a blunt Swiss Army knife like the 127 Hours guy?” He untied his helmet from its spot on his backpack and put it on, raising the faceplate and visor once the clamps were locked into place. “You know, now that I think about it, that actually does sound like the worst thing that could happen.”
I bet you’re really glad now you didn’t try to climb over that boulder back on the first day.
“You have no idea.” He gave the peak one last look before turning around so that his back was to the crater. “Wish me luck?”
Good luck.
“Thanks. I think I’m definitely going to need it, as much as I was hoping otherwise.” He closed his eyes for a few moments to steady himself. “Is it okay with you if I go dark for a while? I really do like talking to you, but this is something I really need to fully concentrate on.”
Yeah, of course it is.
“I appreciate it. If you never hear from me again, then it’s because I ended up pulling a 127 Hours stunt like I was afraid of.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. Down I go. Talk to you soon.”
He muted his communicator and braced himself, before stepping backwards and putting his left foot down over the edge of the crater, hunting blindly for the first foothold.
It’s just like the last few days of hiking, he told himself as he slowly made his way down the crater wall. One foot in front of the other.